Wherever it takes us.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

"I hate crying, Uncle," The words spilled out subconsciously as I stared at the uneven spots on the brown sand the previous rainfall caused the discoloration. "I hate..." I felt myself pause momentarily, trying to remember what else I hated, not that it wasn't an easy question: but more of a long answer.

I let my thoughts hang out there as we took our seats on the steps, the howling cold winds biting at the nips of my shoulders, causing me to fold myself even further.

We sat there in silence, as I wasn't surprised or mildly uncomfortable with the lack of sound; such a predicament was something I had gotten accustomed to these past three months.

Uncle Ben wasn't known in the military for his words: his; actions, however, were a different case. "Times like this, I wish I was a better spokesperson, thus why your father was the king." His words came out calm, while the look on his face was nothing but. A scowl so present, you would have been surprised if it wasn't permanent. "I'm sorry nephew, you know I am; I wish I could be better help-" I cut him off unintentionally as a sad chuckle erupted.

"It's alright, besides I'll do all the talking." A half smile settled on the right-hand side of my face.

With that exchange, another break occurred, ten minutes if I was to guess.

"You know, one day, we'll leave this house." He said as he looked onwards, "Anyone that knows about us would throw questions, glare, even laugh Jason: thinking that our pain is the next best joke."

The roar of the winds filled the absence.

"Don't show them a drop of what you feel: a warrior is only as strong as his mind, my boy." He told me with a pat on my right shoulder, "A happy and carefree attitude always does the trick."

Those words ran through my head; as I looked onward unto the newcomers. '...and, he said he wasn't a good spokesperson.' I thought with a shake of my head.

"Show no fear, children; fear is for the weak" The words met my ears, the witch's voice loud and clear, with our sights set on the next obstacle. They walked toward us slowly, and I could make out their appearances as they strolled closer. The one that led the charge looked to have been their caretaker. He stood with his chest puffed out, his posture almost demanding the respect he so desperately desired with his jumpy black orbs steeling his gaze on us. He had a big frame with a shaggy and unkept rug of brown hair. His steps were quick, almost eager to get this confrontation over and done with; in seconds, he stood not two steps away, with people my age behind him.

The crowd roared in approval, and howls of excitement vibrated amongst the arena.

Hence the nauseousness I felt right after was perfectly valid.

"Late as always, Robert." She spat, her words laced with venom, as the witch glared at the newcomers. "There's such a thing as a dramatic entrance; where's your taste in the theatrics, love?" He asked with a smooth smirk gracing his old masculine features. The witch glared back with her eyebrows narrowed slightly.

"Always the pleasure, Robert," Mathew replied, looking over the squat like a children's squabble.

The announcer looked towards the roaring crowd; his smirk found its way toward his face once more. "Ladies and gentlemen!!!!!" His voice echoed with such an intensity that CX's yelling sounded mild. "People of all ages, welcome to the fight of this decade!!!!" The crowd roared in agreement, everyone eager to get the pregame pleasantries out of the way. "Without further ado, let's get to the introductions."

Mathew strolled between the two groups as his eyes skimmed our faces, almost searching for something. His eyes stopped on mine, with an evident glint of joy in those black orbs. He muttered something incoherent before clutching my right arm, his unkept nails digging into my forearm, causing me to grimace in pain.